Dusk: A parody
by Macarons and Muffins
Summary: Melon Chicken moves to the snowy, dull town of Spoons to live with her father Gnarly. When she attends Spoons high school (also known as SPONS HIG SCOL due to the sign being vandalised) she meets the mysterious, silver eyed Deadwood Dullen and quickly comes to the conclusion that he is a... Ghost! She later realises that he is actually a vampire. Parody of Twilight.
1. Thirst sight, part 1

**Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight. And I would like to apologise to her for just how much I have mangled her book in this parody...**

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**The Dusk saga, part 1: Dusk**

**Chapter 1: Thirst Sight, part 1**

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Prologue:

_Apart from googling my death rate, using every death calculator on the Internet, consulting several doctors, and funeral planning in my spare moments, I'd never given much thought to how I'd die. Naturally, when I was hanging out with a vampire who told me multiple times that he could kill me, Death was the last thing to cross my mind._

_Still, dying in a big yoga studio would be a good enough death. Surely, this was a good way to die; prematurely, at seventeen, in place of someone who wasn't even at risk anyway. Yep, definitely the most noble and heroic death out there! I knew that if I'd never gone to Spoons, I would have had a reasonably happy life, living in a sunny place with my mother and successful stepfather and getting everything I wanted... That would have been horrible! I definitely didn't regret moving to Spoons!_

_The hunter smiled at me like a pedo..._

_As he swankily moonwalked forward (or was it backward? He was moonwalking, so technically he was going backwards, but at the same time he was coming towards me so... Agh, damn it, now I'm confused!) to kill me._

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Reneigh, my mother drove me to the airport. It was seven hundred and fifty degrees in Firebird, Amazonia, thanks to beautiful global warming; just a lovely, warm, disgustingly sweaty day. I was wearing my fave shirt, one that said "_I'm a necrophilic_" on the front in _very tasteful_ pink rhinestones, but it was probably the last time I'd get to wear it, since A. My Dad would probably freak out (he was so stone age, he didn't even think teenage girls would be allowed to have sex with corpses- just shows how modern and progressive he is...) and B. it would be really cold where I was going. I had a big, heavy fur coat with me to protect me from the cold.

There is a town somewhere or other in the USA (I can't be bothered with Geography, but I know it's in that state that has... You know... Those tree things...) called Spoons. It's really lame; it snows _all_ the time there, which is really boring, since there's nothing tthere outside; I still haven't found a way to substitute my favorite pastime of lying down in the dirt and making an angel in Spoons- how do you make angels in snow? Until I was fourteen, I'd suffered the very traumatic ordeal of being forced to spend summers with my Dad, Gnarly, which was terrible because all he did was spoil me and lavish attention on me. Naturally, the selfless angel I was, I'd forced him to stop and instead come and stay in Firebird. He said it made him feel very pained and awkward being with his ex-wife and her new boyfriend, but I knew that was just a cover-up to hide how much time he liked being with me.

"Melon," Reneigh whinnied as we stopped at the airport. "You don't have to do this! I mean, yes, it would completely solve all my problems, but do you really think you're old enough to make selfless decisions?"

Reneigh looked exactly like me, except for the fact that she was older, had different hair, skin and eye tones, a different height, different shaped features and wore completely different clothing (people sometimes said we could be twins... If one of us was adopted.) I suddenly felt maternal panic; how on earth could I, a seventeen year old, leave my middle aged mother to fend for herself? I mean, she was so much less mature and responsible than I was... Who would order pizza for her or buy pop tarts? Jack, her new husband, would probably give her money and stuff, but what if she irresponsibly bought herself _vegetables_ to eat...

"I want to go!" I said, _very convincingly_, though Reneigh didn't look convinced. Maybe because I was holding up a large sign saying "**I RESENT MY MOTHER FOR MAKING ME MOVE AWAY**."

"Tell Gnarly I said hi, and that my life has been so much better ever since I left him."

"I will." I smiled at my mother's friendly greeting for my father- it was so nice how civil they were to each other after their very bitter divorce. Why, just last time I forced them to have dinner together, they even threw steak knives at each other in a lovely, friendly way! How sweet!

"And come home as soon as you want," she reminded me. "Remember, your irritating, selfish and third-wheel presence won't be any trouble at all if you change your mind..."

She was so clingy! I blew her off like the loving daughter I was with a "'slater!" and stalked towards the plane. I wasn't worried about the flight, even though there was a gale force hurricane, the plane was dented and it was rumored there was a terrorist on board. No, I was worried about the two minute car trip that would be coming up with my father.

When I got to the tiny airport in Port Gangrene (no airport in spoons, since it's so tiny that putting an airport in would result in bulldozing half the town, something I wasn't opposed to), I faceplanted on the ground the second I got out the airport. I picked myself up off the ground and pulled leaves and a dead bug out my hair, and saw Gnarly waiting for me next to his large paddy-wagon. His large walrus-like moustache was bristling and I think that meant that underneath it he was smiling, though it might have been lice, it was hard to tell.

"Canteloupe! How nice to see you again, my lovey-wovey diddums girl!" he cooed, and I glared at him.

"_Don't call me that_!" I screamed so loudly that several flight attendants who were passing stared at me and a few small children started crying. (Needless to say, I've always been the quiet type.)

"What, lovey-wovey diddums girl?" Gnarly blinked in confusion, and I rolled my eyes.

"Of course not, I'm not a child. No, I don't like you calling me..." I shuddered. "Canteloupe."

Canteloupe was my full name, but ever since I was young people had called me Melon. Don't ask me why, since Melon wasn't actually an abbreviation for Canteloupe. I just thought it sounded more... _Punk rock_ like that.

"So, how's Reneigh?" he asked me, as he carried my tiny amount of luggage- only _twenty seven_ suitcases!- to his paddy wagon. He was the town's police chief, but since Spoons was too pathetic to actually have any crimes committed there (the worst things that ever happened was a woman ate a grape in the grocery store without paying and one guy littered once) that meant most of the time he and his cop friends took stupid photos behind the bars in the jail.

"She burned all your photos last night," I replied cheerfully, before slipping on my heavy fur coat- Not only was it freezing, but I had to hide my _I'm a Necrophilic_ shirt before Gnarly saw it. "So how have you been, Gnarly?" I paused. "I mean, Dad. I mean, Daddy. I mean, Dadda. Daddily-doogly?" I struggled to come up with a suitable name for him. "Daddo the rapper? Da- You know what? I'll just call you Whale."

Whale was the perfect nickname for him, since he made annoying high-pitched snoring noises when he slept like a whale, and also when he was mad his face would go red and swell up like a whale about to shoot water from its blowhole.

Whale muttered something about insolent kids under his breath, so I figured that he liked his new nickname.

"I found a good car for you!" he informed me cheerfully after a while. Being the grateful daughter I was, I instantly began to throw a tantrum and kicked the glove compartment until it broke; knowing Whale, it was probably a hot wheel or something childish like that.

"How much do you expect me to pay for a cheap toy car?" I yelled at him. He shook his head.

"Actually, honey-bun-"

"Cinammon-bun," I corrected; I didn't like honey buns.

"Right. Cinammon bun, it's a truck, and I kind of already bought it for you."

Oh. That changed things.

"WOW!" I screamed loudly. "FREE! I DON'T HAVE TO PAY ANYTHING!" I cleared my throat, before shooting Whale an innocent look. "Uh- I mean, you didn't have to do that..."

Whale smiled. "Really? Because if you don't want it, I really need a car to drive that isn't just a police cruiser-"

I rolled my eyes. "Uh, Hell-_o_, it's just something people say."

Whale shrugged at this. "Fair enough, Melon. I just hope that having a truck makes you happy in this lonely, desolate town."

"Yeah, yeah." Fat chance. The only way I would possibly be happy here was if my life was seriously endangered.

"I bought it from my friend, Goat White." Whale told me, and I frowned.

"Isn't that a paint colour?" I asked him, and he shook his head.

"No... He's that guy with the missing arms down from La Shove, that Indian reservation. Remember?"

"Of course!" I laughed loudly. "How could I forget good old Goat..."

Actually, I was pretty sure that Goat didn't exist. Whale probably made him up as an imaginary friend- which, I realised with a sigh, meant that the truck was probably also made up. I made a mental note to call my therapist friend (for some reason, Reneigh kept making me see this psychiatrist in Firebird- I guess she thought we would get on as friends, and she was rght- I was so close to the shrink that he treated me just like one of his patients!) and get him to check Whale out.

"So... How do you like the weather?" Whale gestured to the blizzard that was currently uprooting trees outside the car windows. "Pretty good, huh? It's cleared up a lot today."

"The weather is terrible." I said bluntly, and whale looked a little disheartened. Good. That would teach him to be optimistic.

As we drove, I scowled out at the scenery, occasionally sticking my finger up at stuff. It was HIDEOUS outside; all the trees were covered with a thin layer of snow or glistening icicles. How ugly is that? Where were all the dumpsters, burnt trees and trash heaps I knew and loved from firebird?

Eventually, after the car getting stuck in snow and Whale having to drag it along like a husky while I whipped him to hurry him up, we eventually made it to his house. It was really small, just three floors and twenty bedrooms- disgusting. He'd bought it with my mom, and it had been bigger then, except he'd burnt down half of it in a rage when she left.

In front of it, I saw a cr*ppy, run down poor excuse for a rust-bucket truck with one missing wheel- to my surprise, the truck that Whale had bought not only did actually exist, but it was the most beautiful vehicle I had ever seen. I began to cry onto its frame, which trembled under the weight of my hand.

"I love it, Whale!" I sobbed. I imagined all the flashy cars in the parking lot a school- the other kids would be SO jealous of this. Maybe, if I was feeling nice, I would dent all the other kids' cars to match mine. They'd love that.

"I'm glad you like it," Whale said gruffly, frowning. "But... I really would prefer it if you called me Dad, or even Gnarly. Why whale?"

"Because you have a beer gut- duh." I rolled my eyes; he was ridiculously slow on the uptake sometimes. I strutted into the house, leaving Whale to do the courteous thing and carry my bags- it would only take roughly thirteen trips, since I didn't have much luggage. Besides, I figured he needed the exercise.

The room was familiar- in fact, it was exactly the same as it had been when I was a baby; a baby monitor lying on top of a plastic safety-cabinet containing board books and lullaby CDs. The only differences were that the crib had been replaced with a bed (thank goodness- in a scenario where, oh, say, a sexy vampire boyfriend climbed into my room, the crib would certainly not fit both of us) and there was an ancient computer sitting on a desk next to the bed. As Whale stumbled,wheezing, up the stairs with the last of my luggage, I tutted at him.

"Whale, that took far too long!" I snapped, and he sighed.

"I'm sorry, honey, but I have a bad heart and-"

"Yeah, yeah," I flipped a hand, before opening a door and shrieking. This was the most horrifying thing ever- far more horrifying than being stalked by a vampire or surrounded by werewolves. No, despite having heaps of bedrooms and three floors, this house only had... _One_ bathroom!

_Dun dun duuuuuuuunnnnnnnnn..._

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screamed, throwing myself down on the floor and kicking with rage like the mature teenager I am. "There's only one bathrooooom!"

What kind of century was this? EVERY teenage girl has their own bathroom, right? Some probably even have two, one for morning and one for evening! I couldn't believe my own father would subject me to this.

One of the best things (well, probably the only redeeming feature- he's very annoying) about Whale is that he doesn't hover. So after standing over me for a short twenty minutes and asking me if I needed Xanax while I screamed into a pillow at the unfairness of only having one bathroom, he went away. I quickly ran into the bathroom and threw all of his stuff out the window; if we were going to be sharing, then I needed some space for my things. I had to pull myself together; I needed to save the crying and the tantrums for tonight, to ensure that Whale got as little sleep as I did. I mean, tomorrow I would be going to a new school! What a terrible cliché! Spoons high school, also known as SPONS HIG SCOL because someone vandalised the sign and tore off a few letters, has a frighteningly minuscule total of only... Well, I wasn't actually sure how many (what, like I would be a loser and actually waste time looking up statistics of some dumb school?) but I knew it a very, very small amount. I would be the new kid, which meant that I would be entitled to a hundred percent of attention from everyone there, and probably have all the boys fall in love with me. What a drag.

I went and looked in the mirror. I looked very, very unhealthy, possibly due to the black eye shadow I was wearing (I liked to wear it, it made me feel very gothic.) I was a strange person- I often wished that I was blonde or tanned (which was ridiculous, since I was the most beautiful person to ever exist). Instead, I was cursed with being naturally thin with clear, pale skin and thick hair- it really sucked! It also meant that I did not look like a girl from Firebird should- I realised with a sigh that I would have to pretend to be albino to fit in.

For some reason, I didn't relate well to kids my age- probably because I knew I was far more intelligent and mature than them, and often told anyone who tried to be my friend so. Maybe there was a glitch in the brain of every single person on earth except for me or something.

I didn't sleep well that night, partially because I was up half the night screaming abuse into the mirror and pretending my reflection was Reneigh. But finally, very late into the night (ten thirty! So shocking!) I finally fell asleep, and when I woke up, it was the morning of my first day at Spoons high school.

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**Next chapter: Thirst Sight, part two.**


	2. Thirst sight, part 2

**I don't own Twilight. I am about to butcher it once more.**

**Thanks for all the reviews! **

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In the morning, all I could see were clouds outside my window. Ugh. They weren't even cool black clouds, or cute fluffy white ones, they were just bland grey things. It made me feel like a wild animal trapped in a cage, and I resisted the urge to run to my window and howl out of it.

Breakfast with Gnarly- sorry, _Whale_\- was very quiet, apart from the sounds of me throwing plates across the room and tipping all the cereal on the floor because Whale didn't have any Lucky Charms. I mean, who didn't!5 eat little marshmallows for breakfast? Who only bought a measly twelve kinds of cereal...

He wished me well at school, and I gave him a sour look. What kind of pathetic father was he to say such a thing? Any cool dad would say I'm pulling you out of school to become a _motorcycle stunt performer_ instead. But he just smiled, and then went off to the police station that was pretty much his wife and family. He even had 'family portraits' taken outside the station, and framed them along the mantelpiece. When he was gone I sat in the kitchen, looking around. It was so boring, filled with pathetic kitchen appliances and painted a boring yellow and white. Whale hadn't changed it since I was there as a baby, except for putting in new appliances, reprinting and remodelling- almost _identical_ to what I remembered from my childhood. I made a mental note to go and paint it black, to make it look much more interesting. I looked over, and saw the Shrine Whale had made to Reneigh; there were photos of her, life size dolls, and some of her hair and fingernail clippings, hung up among signs saying '**My dear sweet love bug**'. Evidently, he was getting over her nicely.

I shrugged on my fur coat, wishing it was something cool like a biohazard suit instead, and stepped out into the snow, making sure I stomped in as many sleet puddles as I could, splattering muddy half-melted snow all over the garden and some of the windows.

The truck stank of tobacco and something else, something that was sweet and made me want to do a funny little dance. It reminded me of when Whale and his friends used to smoke all the time with hand rolled cigarettes which they put funny green leaves in. Probably peppermint. The ancient radio worked after spitting out a ton of dust when I turned it on, sounding delightfully like nails on a chalkboard. My favourite tune!

The school looked terrible- where were the familiar things I knew and loved from Firebird, like barbed wire, metal detectors, sniffer dogs and riot police? I clicked my tongue. This was really shaping out to be a boring place. It really desperately needed some kind of mythical creatures to make it interesting. I drove past the vandalised sign stating "**SPONS HIG SCOL**" and parked my truck diagonally across three spaces, just to make sure no one parked next to me.

I walked into the office, throwing open the doors dramatically, though the effect was somewhat ruined by me faceplanting on the ground. The whole room was swamped with terribly tacky pot plants, and a fat woman with pink hair sat in the middle of it all, reading a book, something to do with multiple Shades of Grey. Maybe it was an interior decorating book or something.

"Oh, Christian Grey, you are such a sexy meatball..." She looked up, and then gasped when she saw me there, clearing her throat.

"Oh... Um... I'm Mrs Dope, the secretary. How may I help you, sweetie?"

I struck a glamorous pose. "The name's Chikcen. Melon Chicken. I'm sure you've heard of me."

She raised an eyebrow which, like her hair, was dyed pink.

"Nope."

I rolled my eyes, holding in laughter. Of course she'd heard of me. Everyone had. I was probably on the news every day- _Breaking News: Melon ate Fruit Loops for breakfast! _Still, I decided to play along.

"Chief Chicken's daughter." I said, adding a "Duh!" Onto the end. The woman nodded.

"Oh. Okay."

She pulled a slip of paper from the bottom of a large stack of files, causing them to topple over and knock several plastic plants to the ground.

"Here's your timetable!" she started to outline what I was supposed to do and where I was supposed to go, but I ripped the paper from her hand and stalked out the office. No one told me what to do.

"Wait!" she yelled, as I walked out the office. "Don't forget your vampire repellant-"

I ignored this and walked along, occasionally barging into random classrooms on my way to announce my presence there. Finally I reached building three, noting that the sign- like the school sign- also had letters missing, calling it "_**BUDIN TREE**_" instead of _Building three_. Huh. These students really like to mess around with the signs here.

The english teacher was a large, fat man with a white beard, his name plate identifying him as "Mr Claus." When I told him my name, he was so excited to have me in his class that he _blinked_\- that was the kind of reaction I drew from people. I barged into the room, pulling all of the coats hanging up on the wall down to make room for my lovely fur coat, and then walked to the only seat available (which just happened to be the seat I wanted to sit in, because I ran up and shoved the girl sitting there out.) The english syllabus was all boring and basic; Shakespeare, Bronte, Dr Seuss... a bunch of people with stupid names. Because I'd read all of it (well, all of the doctor Seuss, anyway) I decided to take a nap. People here wouldn't be able to keep up with my superior intellect anyway, and I figured if an assignment came up I could just borrow someone else's work. That wasn't cheating because I was me, Melon Chicken, and everything I did was perfect.

The bell rang (well, Spoons is so backwards that the school bell was actually a large cow bell mounted to the wall) and I stormed out the room, knocking my desk over as I did. A boy sitting in the front row leapt over to talk to me, staring. He seemed like the checkers club type, an over-helpful boy. Then again, an over-helpful guy could be handy. He could do my homework for me.

"Hey! I'm Generic Porkie!" He grinned, running a hand through his greasy hair and getting quite a lot of yellow slime on it. He stuck out the same hand for me to shake, but I slapped it away. I didn't want hair grease tainting my perfect skin.

"You're Canteloupe Chicken, right?"

I grabbed him by the collar, slamming him into the wall.

"Call. Me. MELON!" I yelled, and he shrank back. Everyone stared at me, and I stopped to blow kisses at them all. It seemed that everything I did just drew attention.

"Oh... sorry... _Melon_ Chicken, then." He shook his head, and droplets of grease splattered everywhere. "What's your next class?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Something lame..."

I pulled my timetable, which I'd already sophistically customised with princess stickers, out of my bag.

"Government." I snorted. It was useless even learning about government, when everyone knew that at some point in the future I would end up being ruler of the universe.

"That's in building six!" Generic grinned, and I noticed that his grin was very... well... _generic_. "I'm in building one, which is all the way across the school, but I could skip class to show you the way!"

I rolled my eyes. Already, he was in love with my feminine charms. It was the curse of being a devastatingly beautiful girl. _The curse of being chicken_, I called it.

"Nope." I said, politely flipping my middle finger at him and then storming off in the other direction. Thirty seconds later, I heard panting; Generic was following me anyway.

"So, I bet Spoons is really different to Firebird, huh?"

I wanted to ignore him, but I couldn't pass up an opportunity to talk about my favourite subject; _me_.

"Duh. It doesn't snow there and the people are way less annoying."

He nodded, missing my obvious criticism. Bah. How was I supposed to break people's spirits and destroy their confidence if they were oblivious to my hatred of them?

"So, why aren't you tan?"

"I'm albino." I told him, very _obviously_ sarcastically. He gasped loudly.

"Reeeeeeeeally?" Generic gave a high pitched squeal. "That's so cooooooooooool! I watched a documentary about them the other day and did you know that-"

This was getting really annoying now. To shut him up, I pulled a roll of duct tape from my bag and stuck a piece over his mouth, before escaping into my classroom. I would have to start wearing Generic-repellant if I saw him again.

The rest of the morning was the same; boring classes that were way too childish for my high IQ, annoying people who were obsessed with me, me being too cool for words. One girl sat with me in two classes (I forget which ones, though, since I was asleep for most of the lessons.) She was short, several inches shorter than my... whatever I was (I was probably the coolest height ever, though) with a massive afro of hair that curled around her face making her about a foot taller. I couldn't remember her name, but it probably wasn't half as good as mine.

Lunch was boring. I ate my food with my fingers to try and lighten the mood, but that didn't work. Just when I was actually about to start paying attention to the conversation going on (I was _that_ bored), the lights in the cafeteria clicked off loudly, and a spotlight shone on the middle of the room.

"What the-" I began around a mouthful of cheese, but suddenly the doors to the cafeteria were flung open, and the music from reservoir dogs began to play loudly as five people walked inside in a dramatic slow-motion.

_How dare they make a more dramatic entrance than me!_ I thought furiously, though my thoughts were cut off when I saw them.

The first, most shocking thing I noticed, was that they _weren't looking at me_ like everyone else was and like they should have been. There were three boys and two girls, all super hot, nearly as hot as I was. One of the boys was enormous with dark curly hair, and was lifting a huge dumbbell as I watched. The other was super tall and blonde, and looking around at the other students like they were grapes in a grocery store that he could pick up and eat at any time. The last one was so attractive I knew instantly that he and I would make the best couple. He had red-gold hair that looked like he should be in a hat commercial, and was not as muscular, but still looked strong- maybe because he was wearing a t-shirt saying **_I'm not as muscular as my brothers, but still strong_**.

The girls were opposite- one was super tall with a figure that would have made most girls (girls not as wonderfully beautiful as me, of course) jealous and long golden hair, which she was currently brushing. The other one was super short, wearing a ridiculous fairy costume. They were all super pale, even paler than me, and all had dark circles around their eyes that looked really cool, and gothic-

My thoughts were cut off when a pale girl with thick, mahogany hair and chocolate brown eyes sat down beside me.

"_But this was not the reason why I could not look away. I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all so devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful_..."

"WRONG BOOK, BELLA!" I yelled loudly, kicking the girl off her chair. She scowled at me, muttered something about having a better author, then stormed off. Ugh. Annoying. Anyway, back to the storyline.

The five hot people walked over dramatically to an empty table in the corner- empty, I noticed, because of a large sign on it saying _SIT HERE AND WE WILL BITE YOU_. The reservoir dogs stopped playing, and I groaned loudly. I liked that song.

"So." I asked whatserface, the girl with all the hair. I'd remember her name when I felt like it. "Who are they and when will I be able to date one of them?"

Whatserface made a face. "Oh. They're the _Dullens_."

The Dullens. What an interesting name. I started thinking of how _Melon Dullen_ would sound.

As she said this the one with the red-gold hair turned our way, staring directly at me. I was too stunned to wink or blow a kiss, the way I usually did when someone looked at me, and so instead I ducked away, a blush painting my cheeks red. This happened to me a lot. It was like my cheeks had a never-ending source of red paint in them for when I got embarrassed.

"Those are Deadwood, Dement and Wonderland Dullen. The two blondes are Casper and Violet Snail. They were all adopted by Dr Dullen and his wide, Fezmay."

Strange names, none of them as ordinary and sweet as _Melon_. I stored them to the name file of my brain, remembering suddenly the name of the girl sitting next to me. It was Jeffica, just an ordinary (and totally stupid) name.

"They're really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really hot." I commented, which was a massive understatement. Jeffica nodded knowingly.

"Duh. It's like they're all supernaturally beautiful, except obviously they're not, because supernatural doesn't exist." She rolled her eyes. I rolled mine back- That's what she knew. "They're all together though. Violet and Dement, and Casper and Wonderland. It's like, so weird." She turned around to glare at them. Huh. So Deadwood, whichever one he was, was the only single one. I guess he would have to be my future husband, then.

"Which one is which?" I needed to put a name to the faces, so that when I inevitably went through their mail, which I did to everyone I found hot, I would know who was getting what.

"Like I said, the blondes are Violet and Casper Snail. They're like twins. And the others are the Dullens. I, like, already told you this five minutes ago." Jeffica sniffed, tossing her hair.

"Eh, I don't really listen to what people who aren't hot say." I shrugged. Jeffica looked annoyed, but she didn't let her irritation interrupt her gossiping.

"Which one's the super-sexy redhead?"

Jeffica turned around, and giggled, only her giggles sounded more like shorty pig-laughs. Chunks of her food flew out her mouth.

"Deadwood. But seriously, don't waste your time with him, because he doesn't date..." She burst into loud and childish sobs, slamming her fist on the table as she howled. This was a little embarrassing.

"He... He TURNED ME DOWN!" she wailed. I wanted to comfort her, I really did, but A; She didn't really deserve a sexy boyfriend like him- he needed someone far more interesting and pretty (like... oh, I don't know, ME) and B; I just didn't care enough about other people's problems. My own were far more important.

Once Jeffica stopped sobbing loudly, I turned around, whipping out my binoculars to subtly study my future husband- oh, I mean, Deadwood. He was staring at our table, as was the rest of the school- someone who was more modest would have thought it was because of Jeffica's hissy fit, but I knew better. It was because of me, Melon Chicken, the star of Spoons High School. I winked at him, flirtatiously reaching out to swipe some of Jeffica's fries. He didn't respond, but he was probably just being hard to get.

I was anxious to be as late as possible to Biology, since that meant I could make a dramatic entrance again. A girl named Fangela was in my class, and she kindly offered to show me to Biology- well, after I bellowed across the table that I needed someone to show me the way. She was very quiet, possibly because I kept yelling "SHUT UP" every time she spoke, so I assumed she was shy too.

When I entered the classroom, my heart stopped. Then beat again. There was only one seat left in the class (well, actually two, but I didn't want to sit next to Piggy Albert- everyone here warned me that he smelled like fish), which meant that I had to sit next to... _Him_.

Then Him (short for Himanshu) the Indian exchange student gave me a strange look as I moved towards the desk and moved to sit next to Piggy Albert. Deadwood walked into the room, brushing past me and sitting down in the spare desk. Which meant that I would have to sit next to... _him_. (_him_ as in the preposition referring to a male, _not_ Him as in short for Himanshu.)

As I walked towards him, attempting to sashay in a seductive way to impress him, I looked into his face and tripped over spectacularly, knocking over a few desks and sending people's biology folders flying. I didn't care. I'd just noticed something important about Deadwood that would probably become a major key to the plot later on.

His eyes were black. Not the cool, reddish black that Goths like, but the evil dark black that Witches wear.

When I'd fallen, my hair had gotten tangled in a blob of gum lying on the ground, so I quickly chopped off the piece of gum-laden hair and tossed it towards Generic, who grabbed it and began kissing it.

As soon as I sat down, Deadwood shifted as far across the table as he could, making gagging noises and covering his nose. He fished around in his bag and brought out a surgical mask, which he quickly put on. I frowned- did I smell bad? All I'd eaten for lunch was a tuna, garlic and parmesan casserole, which _couldn't_ be the reason he smelled something bad. I pulled my hair towards my nose and sniffed, then just for good measure stuck the hair in my mouth and chewed. It smelled (and tasted) like strawberries, probably because I'd wound strawberries in my hair to look exotic and rubbed a little strawberry juice onto the roots to make it look redder. Rotten berries was a _nice_ smell, so why did Deadwood look so disgusted?

The class dragged. The teacher, Mr Planner, was saying something boring about plant cells, but I didn't care. I knew what cells were (a type of phone, which meant that plant cells were obviously a phone that plants used) so I'd be okay. Instead I watched Deadwood. He was really tense, and halfway through the lesson he pulled on a boxing glove and began thumping the desk with his fist, splintering the wood.

Something told me he was just a little bit odd.

Every time I looked at him he would glare back, so I decided to go for a more subtle approach. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail, wrapping it around a little portable curtain rail I carry with me and attaching a cord so it became a little curtain of hair. I pulled on the little cord and my hair slid across slightly, and I peered at Deadwood.

He was still glaring at me. Huh. He wasn't even applauding my clever hair-curtain trick. I pulled the cord back so my curtain-hair swished across and covered my eyes again.

As soon as the bell went, Deadwood ran towards the door, knocking down several people in his haste to leave. I froze (possibly because the room was really cold) and tears pricked my eyes. He was such a meanie-poo! It wasn't fair! He was destined to be my boyfriend, I was sure of it, so why was he treating me so badly?

"Are you Melon chicken?" A voice that was probably male but could have also been female or canine asked. I looked up to see a blonde boy grinning at me. Oh great- another person who was in love with me. I hated my life!

Something about the boy's round face, blonde hair, eager wide eyes and the red collar around his neck reminded me of a golden retriever.

"I'm Bike. Bike Futon." He introduced himself. "Do you need anything- you know, help to find your next class, someone to carry your books, a _boyfriend_..." He batted his eyelashes.

I clicked my tongue. He was cute, but he just wasn't my type. He was just too... normal. Give me a boy who could, for instance, turn into an animal or who had murdered several people, and I'd be all over him. But Bike was just too... human. Ick.

"Nope," I popped the p. "Goodbye."

Like Generic this morning, he didn't get the hint.

"What's your next class?"

I looked at my timetable. "Gym." I groaned loudly- I hated Gym, not because I was _bad_ at it, but because everyone else was just _completely_ uncoordinated. I was usually the only one playing properly, which lead to a lot of jealous people calling me clumsy or bad at sports. Hah!

"Ooh, me too!" Bike started bouncing up and down like he was on a pogo stick. "Can I walk you there? Can I can I can I can I can I?"

"Sure," I shrugged, which was very kind of me and probably made his day- heck, it made the rest of his year.

Bike screamed like a rabid fangirl then, to my horror, he started singing.

"_I get to walk with Melooooooon..._

_We're going to gym, which is fuuuuuun..._

_I know that one day, she'll marry meeee..._

_because we were just meant to b_-"

I went bright red and slammed my hand over his mouth.

"Uh... you can walk with me, but NO singing, okay?"

Slowly I pulled my hand from his mouth, and Bike nodded eagerly.

"Can I recite Haiku to you instead?:

"No..."

He wasn't allowed to sing or recite Haiku, but man, that boy could talk. By the time we got to class, my ears were practically burning. I'd stopped listening, but I could hear the annoying little buzz of his voice, like a stupid fly circling me.

"... So then, he says to her 'Can I drink your blood', and she's like 'sure', and the weird thing is we never saw her again... maybe she moved or something..."

I decided to tune Bike's annoying chatter out, so it just sounded like "_Blah, blah_." When were we ever going to get to Gym?

"Blah Blah Blah Deadwood Blah Blah Blah Blah?" He asked me. My ears pricked up, kind of like a Rabbit's would. Deadwood!

"What did you say about the soon-to-be love of my life?" I questioned Bike, who shrugged.

"Did you stab Deadwood with a pencil?" He asked me. "Or a pen? Or a small knife? Because he was acting so weird."

"No... Unless pencil is secret code for something..." I narrowed my eyes, staring at him suspiciously. Nope, he didn't look like a spy, so I assumed he actually meant pencil and not some kind of top secret military weapon.

He shrugged. "He looked pissed. Me, on the other hand..." he leaned in slyly. "I wouldn't mind if you stabbed me with a pencil. I like rough girlfriends..."

I sighed. Gym was going to be a long period.

When Gym ended, I went back to the office to return some paperwork. I didn't actually bother to look at the paperwork, and had forgotten to get it filled out, so I just scribbled on it with crayons before handing it in. When I stepped into the office, however, I saw the most beautiful sight in the world- even more beautiful than a bar of chocolate.

Deadwood.

He was arguing with the woman at the desk.

"I NEED to change from Biology!" He said in an attractive voice, one that sounded like faux-velvet (there's a slight difference between a velvet voice and a faux-velvet one.) "Seriously! If I don't, there will be a murder, which will be really inconvenient for my family-"  
The woman shook her head.

"I'm sorry, but every class is taken. _I'M_ not taken, however, if you'd like to have dinner..."

Deadwood tensed, before turning around and giving me a seething glare. The old adage _too many chefs spoil the broth_ ran through my head. _If looks could kill_ probably would have fit more, but I thought mine was better. It had food in it.

"Never mind. I can see you're not even going to try." he snapped at the woman. "And for the last time, I will never ever have dinner with you. Goodbye."

Then he stormed past me and out the door.

When I got to my truck I wanted to cry- why did he hate me so much? Everyone loved me!- but I didn't feel like crying. Instead, I started to laugh hysterically, and laughed all the way home.

* * *

Next chapter: Closed book, part 1


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